AN: OK, so I don't think I'm spoiling anything when I say that Maul's not really dead. xD Just thought I'd mention it in case some of my readers thought otherwise.
All my friends ask me
why I stay strong
– "Dark Paradise", Lana Del Rey
Eldra couldn't sleep.
It wasn't due to the fact that after five years sleeping in the same bed, within the same four walls, she couldn't settle down in a different (yet familiar) setting. Though it was strange to be back in the Jedi Temple again, she had spent most of her life living there. Sinking back into the same comfortable feeling of being surrounded by so much light was easy.
No, it was the unexpected pain in her heart that had struck her the second she'd heard that Maul was dead. It was like the pain he'd felt upon being killed had been stretched out and was hitting her repeatedly, unrelenting. Which shouldn't be possible, since she had blocked their bond, but stranger things had happened.
She didn't dare unblock it. Horror stories telling of what happened to Jedi when their Force bonds were broken by death warned her that any attempt to reach out and see if it was still there would gain her nothing but pain. And considering the pain she was already in, she didn't need any more.
Staring up at the ceiling, Eldra couldn't help the feelings of frustration and anger creep up on her. The Twi'lek caressed the scar on her arm, left behind after the healers had removed the slave chip. She was finally free, and she should feel joyful at that, but no such emotions came. Instead she not only felt awful, but lonely. Which shouldn't be possible, since she was once again surrounded by her friends. But then while they were there for her, they didn't really understand what she'd been through.
Only one person truly did, and he was gone.
Eldra wanted to hit her pillow over and over until she cried. How terrible was that, for her to miss the man who had quite possibly been about to kill her on his master's orders and let said master take their child away? How could she still long for him when he'd killed people she knew – including the master of one of her best friends?
Because of him, she would never see Qui-Gon Jinn ever again. Her last memory of him would be seeing him die in her dream, and boy, had that come true in the worst way.
She hadn't thought of that dream in so long. The crying bundle must have been Kassandra, only Maul hadn't saved her and had instead almost doomed her to a horrific life as a Sith assassin.
And there was also the detail about Obi-Wan and Siri. After the Council had left for Naboo and Eldra had started to settle in, Siri had sat her down and told her everything about their mission to Mandalore – and how the mutual feelings she'd developed for Obi-Wan had almost ruined everything. Eldra hadn't been sure what to say to her, but had provided the appropriate comfort.
There had been a relationship, but no child. Eldra wondered if there would be one day. But then there were other parts of the dream that she knew would never come true…
Giving up on sleep altogether, Eldra sat upright. She was careful not to disturb Kassandra, who slept beside her in the bed, hugging her stuffed wolf close. Eldra was grateful that the Jedi had allowed her daughter to sleep in the same quarters, instead of sending her to stay with the other Younglings in one of the crèches.
That was another thing to think about: Kassandra's future. She already had no idea how she was going to explain to her daughter that Maul was dead, but another dark thought worried her more. She got out of bed and walked over to the window, which was larger than the one she used to have in her old Padawan quarters. The passing traffic zooming across the night sky was no different than the view from Maul's apartment, but the familiarity helped settle her mind.
With Maul gone, his master was bound to be looking for a new apprentice. And Kassandra would be the perfect candidate.
If the Jedi refused to accept her for training, then she would be helpless. The Sith would swoop in and take her without a second thought, and Eldra knew she wouldn't be able to do anything to stop him.
She had to make sure her daughter stayed in the Temple. Even if she herself had to step away from the Jedi Order, if that was what it took.
"Mama?"
Eldra turned to find her daughter sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. "Go back to sleep, Kassie. It's still night time."
"Where's Da? Is he coming to live with us here, too?"
And how could she answer that question? Kassandra was still so young; too young to really understand what death was. Eldra still hadn't told her what really happened to Venny. Her daughter believed that the droid had gone away to live with his family.
It was a mercy that children didn't remember much from their earlier years. Hopefully, Kassandra would have very few memories of her father, if any at all.
"He's… away," she said finally. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."
Kassandra frowned. It was as if she knew that wasn't true. But she didn't argue, and instead asked, "Can you tell me a story?"
Figuring that it would provide both of them with a distraction, Eldra nodded and sat beside her daughter, stroking her head. "Have I ever told you about the woman you were named after?" Kassandra shook her head. "Well, once upon a time…"
The cascading water of the Room of a Thousand Fountains echoed around them as Obi-Wan and Anakin walked along the path, the former showing the latter around. After everything he'd been through over the past few days, the newly knighted Jedi found comfort in what had been his master's favourite room.
It was hard, facing the reality that Qui-Gon was gone. So much had changed; not only was his master one with the Force, but Obi-Wan had found himself with an unexpected apprentice, far sooner than he would have liked. He had always planned on getting used to being a Knight without anyone to guide him before taking on a Padawan of his own.
And yet, Anakin's presence actually helped him process his grief for Qui-Gon. It gave him something else to focus on, for starters. But the boy was also grieving for the master he might have had, and helping him with this struggle helped Obi-Wan, too. How must it be for him, to be far away from his mother, in an unfamiliar setting and surrounded by complete strangers?
If it frightened him, he didn't show it. In fact, Anakin seemed to be taking it all in his stride, which bode well for the Jedi Knight he would one day become.
"This place reminds me of Naboo," he said. "There's so much water."
Obi-Wan had to agree. It was like the room had been almost modelled after the scenery on Naboo. "This is where Jedi come to meditate. And socialise. My friends should be here to meet with us."
"Your friends?"
Just as Anakin asked the question, Obi-Wan spotted the familiar faces he was looking for. He pointed them out, and tried to hide just how overwhelmed he was to see one of them. It was a face he never thought he'd see again.
When the Council had arrived on Naboo with news that Eldra was alive, Obi-Wan had barely believed what he was hearing. He had mourned for her and moved on, because that was what a Jedi did, but what was one supposed to do when faced with someone who had been mourned for? Looking at Eldra was like looking at a ghost.
But that wasn't the only reason why he was conflicted.
As he and Anakin made their way over to the trio gathered on a beach area next to one of the room's larger pools, Obi-Wan saw the child for the first time. Her trousers were rolled up and she was paddling in the shallows of the pool, laughing and splashing. Siri had been right in their conversation over the comm; this girl looked almost exactly like Eldra. The only differences were the ears… and the three familiar horns on her forehead.
Not only had Eldra been abducted by the Sith, but she'd had a child with one of them. The very same one Obi-Wan had cut in half and sent hurtling to his death. Which wouldn't be so bad if the Sith had forced himself upon Eldra, but Siri had insisted that according to their mutual friend, it was more complicated than that. Eldra had actually bonded with the Sith, if only for her own survival.
Nevertheless, Obi-Wan had killed the father of his best friend's child. And even though that same father had killed Qui-Gon and then tried to kill him, he couldn't help but feel guilty over the entire ordeal.
It was Siri who noticed them first, and her face lit up in a way that briefly made his heart leap. He quickly supressed it. Time apart had helped him push down the feelings he held for her, but they hadn't gone away. Obi-Wan knew deep down, they never would. He would just have to live with them. But their refusal to talk about it with each other meant that he had no idea if Siri was in the same boat as him.
"Oh, look what the Tooka dragged in," she said, smirking, as she sat up straighter from her position on the sand. "And what time do we call this?"
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "For your information, I've been showing my new Padawan around the Temple."
Anakin gave a shy wave. "Hi."
Siri's face softened when she saw him, reminding Obi-Wan how good she was with children; something that had once come as a surprise to him. She climbed to her feet and smiled at the boy. "Hello. You must be Anakin Skywalker. I'm Siri Tachi. I was your master's best friend when we were growing up."
"If by 'best friend' you mean 'frequent tormentor', then yes," said Obi-Wan.
"Don't make me push you in there again." Siri pointed to the pool.
"And now she has help." Eldra also got to her feet and brushed off the sand from her clothes, before turning to look at Anakin. "I'm Eldra Kaitis. I was his friend, too." She made no move to give Obi-Wan any sort of greeting, so he took the initiative to cross the space between them and embrace her.
The Twi'lek tensed up, but only for a moment before she relaxed.
When they both pulled back, Obi-Wan saw that they'd been joined by Eldra's daughter. Kassandra? He was certain that was what Siri had told him the child's name was. (Which had been followed by a long speech about how she had those marks on her lekku that Eldra had never shut up about, leading to something about what kind of deep poodoo they must all be in for not only this mark to show up again but also for the kriffing Chosen One to appear, but Obi-Wan had still been in shock over Eldra's return and the revelation that she had a child at all, let alone that a Sith was the father, so he hadn't really been listening.)
He smiled down at the child. "Hello. You must be Kassandra?"
She gasped and hid behind her mother's legs, clutching the woman's trousers as she buried her face from view.
Eldra placed her hand on her daughter's head. (Obi-Wan noticed that unlike most Twi'lek children, Kassandra wasn't wearing a headdress. Though he could see why; they would have to get one specially made to fit around her horns.) "It's OK, Kassie. Obi-Wan's my friend, like Siri."
"She wasn't like this when she met me and Adi," said Siri.
"I think it's because I gave her a mission," said Eldra. "And she put on a brave face and did everything she could to complete it like a champ. But the truth is, she's only known four walls and three people: me, her father and a droid. Everything's changed, and I think she's struggling to come to terms with it all. She's tired, and… and she just wants her dad." As she said this, Kassandra moved her head slightly so one blue eye was curiously looking at Obi-Wan.
And that just made him feel worse. Even though the Youngling was acting shy around him, she didn't seem to hate him and could even grow to like him… all without the knowledge that he was the man who had taken her father from her. How was he supposed to react to her, when he had essentially destroyed her entire world and she had no idea?
Siri broke through his stormy mind by saying, "Poor little thing."
Eldra looked between her two friends, silently making a decision. She then knelt down in front of her daughter and said, "Kassie, I need you to go and play for a bit longer while I talk with my friends, OK?"
Kassandra gripped her mother's hand tightly. "Do you have to?"
"I can watch her." Anakin chose to speak up for the first time. Until that moment he'd been a silent observer, staying close to Obi-Wan out of uncertainty. Surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces, he looked almost stressed, though Obi-Wan supposed the environment also didn't help. After all, this was a boy who until a few days ago had never left his home planet.
Obi-Wan realised that Anakin must have felt this way since the moment he left Tatooine, and he simply hadn't noticed. He told himself that he was going to make certain that Anakin not only felt welcome, but that he felt comfortable in his new home.
"Are you sure?" Eldra asked, looking uncertain. "She's a handful when she gets excited."
The girl turned and noticed the older boy for the first time, and her eyes seemed to light up. It became apparent immediately that this was a girl who had spent the first few years of her life without the company of another child. She jumped away from her mother, filled with excitement, but a moment later she froze in hesitation.
Anakin sent her a warm smile, before turning back to Eldra and saying, "I'm used to it. My mom used to help look after kids who were separated from their parents during slave drives. That's how I became friends with Kitster; his mom and dad were sold to Jabba the Hutt, but he had to stay behind. Mom helped Kitster adjust, and I helped, too. Were you both slaves?"
It was hard, trying to dodge the uncomfortable feelings that came with the reminder that Anakin had been a slave (and that they had been forced to leave his mother behind, still in slavery, along with the other slaves on Tatooine). But looking at Eldra, Obi-Wan could see that she was having a harder time answering his question. Not because she didn't know the answer; she had been a slave of the Sith, as had her daughter, and she knew it. She was simply finding the whole ordeal hard to talk about.
"Yes," she said at last. "We were slaves."
The young boy nodded like the answer was normal (like slavery was normal) before he turned to the younger girl and said, "Come on, Kass! Let's go play!" He moved closer to the water and beckoned for the three-year-old to follow him.
Kassandra continued to hesitate, and she looked up to her mother for guidance. Eldra nodded with a smile, and made an encouraging motion towards the water. With that reassurance, the thrill of playing with another child overpowered the girl's need to stay close to her mother, and she hurried after Anakin.
When the pair were out of earshot, paddling in the shallows of the pool, Obi-Wan turned back to Eldra. "I feel I should apologise. I've taken away your child's father-"
Eldra interrupted him with a raised finger before he could get another word out. "Let me get one thing straight: never apologise for doing the right thing. Maul killed Qui-Gon, and he was trying to kill you. If anything, I should be the one apologising to you. The father of my child killed your master-"
"You were being held against your will," said Obi-Wan. "And it's not like you told him to kill Qui-Gon."
She sighed. "I know. But it doesn't change the fact that three Jedi are dead, and I couldn't do anything to stop him."
Obi-Wan frowned. "Wait, three?"
"Darsha and her master," said Eldra. "That's how they really died: Maul killed them. I told the Council before they left."
"And she told me yesterday," said Siri. "Pretty scary, right? Realising that the Sith have been around all this time. How many other Jedi have they managed to kill, and we never knew about it?"
It was a frightening prospect, Obi-Wan realised. And getting some answers behind Darsha's death helped close a door he didn't realise was still open. They hadn't been close, but they'd been friends – like he'd been friends with most of the children in his Clan – and the nature of her death and how it had gone unsolved had bothered him.
"Anoon Bondara was the Temple's Battlemaster," Eldra continued. "And Maul killed him. He only got that good because… because he was training against me. When I first faced him in battle, I nearly killed him. So he used me to become a better fighter. And… and I actually enjoyed sparring against him. He was a challenge, and I appreciated that's all he wanted me for instead of what people usually want Twi'lek slave girls for, and I knew he was going to go on and kill people I cared about, but it never really hit me until he killed Darsha, and…"
It didn't take an idiot to know that Eldra was talking herself into a dark place, fuelled by guilt she'd convinced herself she deserved to feel. Obi-Wan strode forwards, and Siri wasn't far behind him. They took a hand each, grounding her in the present.
"Eldra, listen to me," Obi-Wan said. "Qui-Gon's death isn't your fault. I don't blame you. The only person I blame is the man who struck him down. In case I need to repeat myself: you didn't tell him to kill my master."
"I tried to stop him," she said. "When he told me he'd encountered you both, I tried to convince him not to kill you. He didn't listen."
"Then that was his choice." Obi-Wan squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You tried."
"And Eldra, I think you should go and talk to Bant," Siri told her gently. "Since you've been gone, she's been training to join the Medical Corps and has become especially skilled in healing ailments of the mind. It's up to you, but I think she can help."
Their friend just looked at their joined hands for a long moment, before sighing again. "I'll think about it. First, I need to get through telling the Council the whole story. I gave them a brief summary before they left for Naboo, but I left out a lot of stuff that's hard to explain. Like, how do I even begin to tell them that I… that I did things a Jedi should never do with anyone, let alone a Sith Lord."
She glanced over at Kassandra, and it was clear what she meant when she said "things".
"Remember what my master told you," said Siri. "Sometimes to survive, a Jedi must do things that leave a scar on our souls."
"Like deprive a child of her father." Obi-Wan nodded towards Kassandra.
Eldra rolled her eyes and looked more like herself again. "Seriously, Obi-Wan. You did the right thing. And I think… it's for the best that he's gone. I was worried we'd have to deal with him storming the Temple and slaughtering any Jedi who got in his way. At the end of the day, he… he cared for us in his own way, but the darkness was clouding his mind, and it destroyed him. He wasn't exactly dad material."
A commlink started beeping. It was Siri's.
She stepped back to answer it, letting go of Eldra's hand. "Yes, Master?"
"Siri, could you send Eldra to the Council chambers?" said Adi over the comm. "Tell her to come alone, if you don't mind watching over her daughter."
"Sure. I'll send her up." She looked to the Twi'lek. "It's time to face the party poopers."
"I heard that." There was a chuckle in the background which sounded like it belonged to Master Plo Koon, before Adi cut the connection.
Eldra let go of Obi-Wan's hand, then took in a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself for what was about to come. "OK. Wish me luck. And if you say there's no such thing as luck-"
Obi-Wan raised his hands in defence. "I wasn't going to say that!"
"It's only bee five years. You haven't changed that much." She then walked towards where Kassandra was splashing in the water with Anakin, and Obi-Wan watched as she explained to her daughter that she needed to go and do something important; that Kassandra needed to stay with Obi-Wan, Siri and Anakin for the time being.
Though she had assured him that he'd done the right thing, Obi-Wan still couldn't help but feel responsible for the child. Perhaps he was being hypocritical, given he'd just told Eldra not to feel guilty over things that were out of her control, but the fact remained that he had taken this girl's father away. Even if it had been the right thing to do.
Maybe there was a way he could make it up to her. She would be ready for training in another ten years or more, and if all went well (and he progressed at a far quicker pace than Obi-Wan himself) then Anakin would be ready to take the Trials of Knighthood around the same time. Leaving Obi-Wan free to take another Padawan.
He doubted that even if they both stayed, Eldra wouldn't be allowed to train Kassandra herself. Which meant the girl would need someone else to oversee her training.
Though she didn't yet know it, this Youngling had lost her father – and if the Force willed it, Obi-Wan was prepared to step in and fill the gap he himself had cut out. It was the least he could do.